A donor for my heart
by Hamlet-sama
Summary: [M Rated for following chapters] /I can't write summaries but here you go./ Izaya can't understand why people love Shizuo and can't cope with the idea of him being happy so he acts like the bastard he usually is. But - is that all? Is it hate or just the cover of a mutual unspoken love. [I'm up for a real tragedy. Haha. :3]
1. Chapter 1

The door was slammed behind the tiny figure of the boy. He couldn't stand to hear his parents yelling at eachother anymore. He was afraid, afraid that they might hurt eachother, afraid that they might turn against him too. He wished he could stop them, he wished he could take away all the pain and let them live as a happy family again. A pair of crimson eyes opened slowly. In the darkness of the room the only thing he could see were his sisters, much younger than him. They were hiding under a blanket, as scared as him, and the boy could make out the sound of their quiet sobbing. It was happening more often and he could do nothing to stop his parents from fighting. He blamed himself for it; he wished his father would beat only him like he used to and sto fighting with his wife. But of course that never happened. A moment of silence made the boy open the door slightly. He glanced outside the room, but couldn't see anything. He was about to get up and check the state his parents were in, when he heard a loud noise and a scream. The door was slammed shut again and the boy covered his ears. The screams didn't stop and he could do nothing to stop them as he couldn't stop the tears streaming down his face. He wasn't crying because he fought himself to remain silent, but the pain, he couldn't bear it anymore so he let it out in small rivers of crystal-like liquid. He could feel the salt on his lips and the guilt which coiled around his neck. He wanted to scream, louder than the screams he heard, and he wanted everything to end. Pain. Suffering. Fights. Yells. Screams.

* * *

The bed cracked as one certain informat jumped from his sleep in shock. He got up and sat on the edge of the bed. Izaya blinked few times before his eyes adjusted to the dark. The digital clock that sat on the nightstand right beside his bed lighted the small green numbers. 2 AM. Sweat was running down in small particles down the informant's face. It poured down and colided with the fresh tears sliding down from the corners of his crimson eyes. His heart was beating so hard it could break through his ribcage in any moment. One hand was pressed agains his chest as he breathed heavily in an attempt to calm himself from the nightmare that was still haunting his mind. There were no lights in his room other than the flashes of the passing-by cars and the poor shine from the tall lstreet lights. Izaya moved his hand from his chest and covered his face closing the pair of crimson orbs. He grimaced at the thoughts of the disturbing nightmare. He didn't think so deep about his family in years. It was like a sharp knife pressing against his spine to remember about his past which was a nightmare itself. His hand moved through his dark, messy bangs of hair and it stopped when his fingers grazed upon a deep scar - the only thing his father ever left to him. A sigh passed his dry lips as he reopened his bloody red eyes to stare blindly into the darkness of his room.

* * *

The informant got up slowly from the edge of the bed where he was standing and headed to the bathroom. There he avoided to look at the mirror. He knew that if he saw himself in that state it would only depress him more. The clothes he was wearing were dscarded on the floor as he opened the shower. Izaya didn't wait for the water to warm up, he just stepped inside and let the ice rivers stream down his whole body. His back was pressed against the shower's wall. The tile bit down his spine making him to shiver - a fear formed in his mind. His arms coiled around his trembling body and in spite of the cold water pouring from above, the soft liquid running down his cheeks remained warm. Izaya hated crying, he hated feeling weak and he hated that even when he was down, there was nobody to cheer him up other than the annoying voices in his mind that wanted him as dead as everyone else wished he was. He aknowledged that he couldn't blame them for seeking that, aknowledged that he was a monster who loved to create suffering to the ones that didn't deserve it; he aknowledged that he deserved the pain he was feeling. But he was both sad and jealous - and his jealousy got the best of him. He enjoyed torturing people and all because he didn't want to be the only one suffering. But above everyone else, he didn't want one certain person in Ikebukuro to live a happy peaceful life. A person, but not a simple one. A monster just like him, but a monster that people still loved regardless of his violent behaviour. It just didn't make sense in Izaya's mind.

It was just wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

Nee... sorry it took so much to finish it and there's no lewd stuff.../yet/. But I promise there will be! Thank you for all faves/follows!

* * *

"Izaya!" A loud scream broke the silence in Ikebukuro. The people passing by on the streets didn't even bother to turn their heads in the direction of the sound. They were all used to the dreadful fights between a certain information broker and an ex-bartender. A loud thud announced the collison of a vending machine with the wall of a market building. The dark-haired informant avoided that one and as he ran further away from the angered bodyguard, his wide grin crossed his face with a sadistic pleasure behind it. In his mad run, Izaya didn't notice that the blonde ex-bartender wasn't behind him anymore. neither did he notice when a sign post smashed against his head. The world became blurry in a matter of seconds and the informant collapsed on the ground. The last thing he remembered was the smile of triumph the other man had on his face. There was a warm liquid pouring down his face as his vision was covered in complete darkness. His mind gave up to unconsciousness and the world died before his eyes. "Flea?" The blonde let the damaged post sign fall on the asphalt and kneeled beside the informant. Doubt shaded his sight as he watched the dark-haired man move slightly, still unconscious. He had the same creepy grin plastered on his face and Shizuo was ready to leave him be when the informant called for him. "Shizu-chan." Izaya whispered, his grin slowly vanishing and making place for a rather new expression Shizuo ever saw on the informant's face. He looked as if he was in pain. "Flea, if that's one of your pranks, I'm not going to fall for it." The blonde man growled, annoyed by the situation he was in. Of course he wasn't going to fall in that trap, but the more he looked at the unconscious man, the heavier his heart became. Even if he hated the man he was looking at, he didn't really wish to ever kill him. It was just that the brunet loved to mess with his short temper. Without thinking about it too much, the bodyguard ran a hand through the informant's hair. The soft dark bangs coiled around his fingers as Shizuo moved them to get a clearer view of the other's face. Doing that he noticed the change in Izaya's expression. He didn't look like he was in pain anymore, he looked rather peaceful, with a new kind of smile born across his face. "Shizu-chan..." The informant nuzzled against the hand which was playing with his hair. Even in his unconscious state, Izaya recognized the mix of cigarette, sweat and pure Shizuo smell. The bodyguard's eyes widened, but little for the reaction of the brunet. Warm drops of red liquid poured on his fingers. /He really hit the informant pretty hard./ Shizuo didn't hesitate and picked up the dark-haired man, heading to his home. He did that and he was going to fix it.

* * *

The door slammed against the wall with a loud thud as it was kicked open. A heavy sigh escaped the blonde's lips as he entered the apartment carrying a certain informant in his arms. The door was closed the same rough way as it was opened. The floor cracked silently as the bodyguard stepped further heading to his bedroom, where he gently placed the brunet on the bed. He was about to go to the bathroom and look for a towel and disinfectant when Izaya grabbed his sleeve as if he wanted him to remain there. Shizuo glanced back at the sleeping brunet and gazed at his peaceful expression. For a moment, Shizuo wondered what he was dreaming about when he remembered he had a job to do. He carefully shoved the informant's hand off and headed to the bathroom. The small bulb from the ceiling lighted up the bathroom as the bodyguard picked the first small towel he found and the bottle of disinfectant. When he returned, he found the brunet in the same place, holding and nuzzling one of his pillows. Shizuo blinked few times before approaching the bed's side and dragging a chair along with him. "Alright flea. If you think I'm letting you spill your blood all over my pillow, you're wrong." The blonde bodyguard pulled the pillow away from the informant's arms and started cleaning his wound with the small towel and disinfectant. That was when he discovered the deep scar on the informant's forehead, carefully hidden behind long enough bangs of hair. Shizuo brushed his fingers against it, feeling the rough and bruised skin. He wondered if the informant gained that scar from their endless fights and started to feel guilty about it. The ex-bartender leaned an placed a kiss upon the scar before making sure the brunet was sleeping. He got up from the chair and headed back to the bathroom for a shower. As the crystal water started to pour from above, all kind of thoughts made place in the blonde man's mind.

* * *

Crimson eyes opened slowly after hours of deep slumber and endless running in pitch black darkness. Pure bloody orbs blinked few times before adjusting to the poor light of a small lamp sitting right next to the bed he was lying it. Everything seemed different. The walls, the room, the bed and even the mix of different smells. The brunet informant tried to get up, but gave up as soon as a sharp pain hit his head. Izaya groaned in pain and collapsed back on the soft matress. He closed his eyes again and gave few good moments for the pain to settle down. It was when he reopened his eyes and heard a soft steady breathing, his red orbs opened wide as he turned his head in the direction of the sound. A chair was dragged beside the bed and sitting on it was no-one else other then the blonde bodyguard. The informant kept staring at him, taking every single detail of the man who he stated to hate so much. How the beach blonde bangs were covering his face, still a bit wet from the previous shower. How his mouth was half open taking in and out regular breaths and how his usual angered expression was so calm and peaceful while his mind was locked deep in the dream world. As Izaya attempted to move, he noticed how his and the blonde's hand were locked together. Their fingers locked in the most fragile and gentle hold, barely even touching and yet if they were locked tighter, the bond would had been broken. The dark-haired informant didn't dare to move. He was both curious and confused. The last thing he could remember was the post sign hitting his head, the blonde ex-bartender wearing that proud smile and how he woke up inside the blonde's house. A sharp pain shot him in his head and with his free hand he dared to touch the place. A strong smell of disinfectant filled his nostrills and that was when realization hit him. Izaya figured out that the blonde must had been feeling guilty about what he did so he dragged the unconscious informant to his apartment and fixed his wound. The dark-haired man smiled at the thought that someone who could be so violent and easily angered as Shizuo, had in fact a soft heart. A smile spread across his face. But it wasn't sadistic nor his usual wicked grin. It was that kind of smile which painted the simple unspoken words. It was sincere. Closing his eyes, the informant drifted slowly to sleep while the simple touch of their fingers made him feel linked of reality. It made him feel, for the first time in his life, not a monster, but a human. And the small smile that spread across the far-in-dreamland blonde proved it right.


End file.
